


and we're leaving broken hearts behind

by aarobron



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/aarobron
Summary: aaron is robert's soulmate. it's just a pity that it takes a near-death experience for him to realise that.or,“Go on,” Robert says, fingers wrapping around Aaron’s wrist. His free hand is brushing over the shimmering gold letters sitting snuggly in the crease of his thigh. “You can look if you want.”“Nah, you’re alright,” Aaron says, feeling his shoulders tense. His voice is hard -keep out!with barbed wire across the top - but he can’t help but get another glimpse as Robert stretches again.





	and we're leaving broken hearts behind

**Author's Note:**

> prompted on tumblr and i decided it was the perfect opportunity to write what i've been threatening for months. 
> 
> the timeline isn't exactly the same in this - gordon comes back around six months before he does in the show, and robert doesn't get shot, plus there's no chrissie, but there is a girlfriend. 
> 
> title from [mystify by inxs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26ELh7P2ZtA)
> 
> thank you for reading x

Aaron’s mark comes in when he’s fifteen. It’s not _late_ late, by any means, but it’s late enough that he’d been obsessively checking for a good few years. It appears on his skin three days before he finally makes a break for it and gets away from his dad. 

He ends up in Emmerdale, because where else is he going to go? Except it seems like his mum doesn’t even want him - he sticks around for the rest of the Dingles, the extended family he barely knows but seem to love him (despite the fact he’s a little shit).

It’s simple, his mark. Nothing special, just bold, serif letters, spelling out ‘RJS’. They sit in the crook of his elbow, standing out like charcoal against his pale skin.

He doesn’t really mind them, at first. He thinks of Roxys and Roses, with shiny dark hair and a winning smile. He thinks about his dream girl, about spending the rest of his life with the dream girl.

Until he realises that it doesn’t affect him in the way it should. 

He knows what it is, of course he does. That doesn’t mean he has to _accept_ it. So he pursues Vic: Victoria, with her disapproving older brother and her carefree nature, her long brunette hair and her hazel eyes.

She smiles at him, sometimes, in a way that she doesn’t smile at anyone else. She’s all hard edges, a solid brick wall with barbed wire over the top. But sometimes she’ll smile, soft around the eyes and the corners of her mouth, and Aaron manages to convince himself that he loves her.

The marks don’t come up until they sleep together for the first time. Her’s is tiny and on her shoulder, barely legible, but if he strains his eyes hard enough he can work out ‘A.B’. 

“That’s not my initials,” He says with a smirk, fingertips brushing lightly over the letters.   


“Doesn’t matter,” She shrugs, carefree and soft and so, so beautiful. “It’s all bollocks anyway.”  


That doesn’t stop her tracing her nails over his mark - the soft tip of her index finger follows the lines carefully, as careful as the considering look on her face. “You know,” She says, words hesitant, but she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. “That’s my brother’s initials.” 

Something inside him snaps - the elastic band of denial he’s stretched tight - and he shoulders her touch away, sits on the edge of the bed and pulls his trackies back on. It’s too much.

“That’s nice,” He hisses, and stands before her tiny hand can grip his shoulder. “But it means _fuck all_. There are plenty of people in this world with those initials, Vic, and it’s really none of your business anyway.”  

She’s quiet for a minute, two, watching him as he dresses. “Yeah,” She says finally, but her voice is small. “Guess not.” 

.

He meets Jackson a few years after. He’s not ready for him, not really, but he guesses there’s no time like the present to learn. 

Besides, he’d long decided that soulmarks mean nothing. What if he never meets this mysterious RJS anyway? And what’s so special about them? What makes them Aaron’s _soulmate_?

He can find himself love, thank you very much. He doesn’t need some shitty fairytale to do it for him. 

Except when Jackson dies, he tells Aaron something he never wanted to hear. Something that haunts him, that echoes around his mind whenever he closes his eyes. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over it, forget it. He doesn’t know if he _wants_ to. 

“If we were soulmates,” Jackson chokes out, eyes a little glassy. He’s already checked out but he hasn’t had the drink yet, but Aaron knows he’s been dead for months anyway - at least, on the inside. “Then this never would’ve happened.”  


“Jackson, stop it,” Aaron begs, tears streaking his cheeks. His throat hurts from the force of his sobs, heart cracking from the sight of his boyfriend. He’s not above begging, if he knew it’d work. He’d even get on his knees.  


“If we’d have just found our soulmates, I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jackson says. He continues like he’s not even listening to Aaron, like he’s not even aware of his presence, as he stares at a spot on the wall. “But I don’t blame you.”   


Aaron bites back the _I do_ that’s on his tongue, and squeezes his eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears. “I love you,” He says instead. 

Jackson finally looks up: his eyes clear and he smiles a little, ever the charming boy Aaron fell for. “I hope you find him and you love him, even half as much as you loved me.”

And then Aaron’s putting the glass to his lips, he’s drinking, and

he’s gone.

.

The scars on his heart heal eventually, as do the ones over his mark. Because it doesn’t matter how hard he tries, the black letters stick to his skin - if anything, they stand out even more against the white lines. 

It takes two years for him to get over it, two years for him to stop hearing Jackson’s voice, but he finds that he can breathe a little lighter.

And it’s just as that’s happening that Robert Sugden comes storming into his life and turns everything he thought he knew inside out. 

He catches him and Ross in the barn in the back field of Moira’s farm, that ridiculously expensive car between them.

“Never rely on the manufacturer’s tracker,” Robert smirks, pushing the barn doors open. Aaron shoots Ross a look because he’d told him _more than once_ that this was a fucking stupid idea.   


But it progresses in a way that Aaron never expected it to.

He’s attracted to Robert, of course he is - in a way that makes him hate himself, because he wants that smug smile and that arrogance. Robert is a prick but he’s _hot_ , and Aaron’s drawn to him.

“I’ve got a girlfriend, y’know,” Robert says after the first time. They’re pressed into the twin bed in Vic’s spare room, shoulder-to-shoulder, but there’s no afterglow. “She’s my soulmate.”   


Aaron doesn’t think Robert knows the meaning of the word.

“That’s nice,” He says, nudging Robert off the edge of the bed so he can get dressed and fuck off. He doesn’t want to stick around for this conversation - he feels bad enough as it is without knowing about the girlfriend. “Why aren’t you with her, then?” 

“We’re taking it slow,” Robert says. He grins with all teeth bared, like the cat who got the cream, but Aaron will _never_ be the cream. He’s not going to be _second best_.   


“But she’s your soulmate,” Aaron counters, doubling over to lace his shoes. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees Robert’s leg slipping out of the duvet, mark on full display. He looks away. “Makes sense.”   


“Go on,” Robert says, fingers wrapping around Aaron’s wrist. His free hand is brushing over the shimmering gold letters sitting snuggly in the crease of his thigh. “You can look if you want.”   


“Nah, you’re alright,” Aaron says, feeling his shoulders tense. His voice is hard - _keep out!_ with barbed wire across the top - but he can’t help but get another glimpse as Robert stretches again.  


‘AD’.  


It can’t be a coincidence, can it? That, and the fact that Aaron’s mark turned a shimmering gold the second he said two words to Robert. Maybe Vic was right, all those years ago. Maybe it is-

The thought keeps him up all night.

.

He realises that Robert’s his soulmate at the same time he realises he can’t stay away from the older man. He tries to break it off, to end it and stop it from getting messy, but sometimes.

Sometimes Robert looks at him like no one else does: eyes soft at the corners, a little sparkly, and like he’s seeing him for who he really is.

And Aaron falls for him all over again.

His mark still shines, twice as bright when Robert’s fingertips are on his skin, and it aches when they’ve argued. Sometimes, it gets to a point where it burns, especially when they aren’t talking, and his heart longs for Robert.

That makes him sick - physically, in a way that he never gets. It feels like the flu, because he flushes hot right from his muscles, his hands tremble, and he can’t eat. Love sickness, is what Google tells him when he can just about find the energy to search his symptoms. 

But the making up makes his entire body sing. 

“Why did you come back?” Aaron asks, mouth still pressed to Robert’s shoulder. They’ve made up now, after an argument (and love sickness) that lasted almost an entire week. “To Emmerdale, I mean.”   


Robert’s palm drags across the bare skin of Aaron’s stomach, warm and dry, and he buries his nose into the younger man’s curls. They both know that the only cure to love sickness is proximity - intimacy.

“I lost my job,” Robert says eventually, lips ghosting along the top of the shell of Aaron’s ear. “Couldn’t afford rent on my flat.”   


“Why’d you lose your job?” Aaron says, screwing his nose up. He can’t quite imagine it, because Robert’s good at what he does. There’s no way he’d ever get fired.  


“Slept with the boss’ daughter,” Robert says. The words are a little regretful, like he doesn’t want to tell Aaron this, but it’s too late for any of that. Considering, you know - Robert’s still convinced Alyssa is his soulmate.   


Aaron sighs, rolling his eyes. It’d be a good enough reason for anyone else, but he _knows_ Robert. “What’s the real reason?” He asks, tangling his fingers with the older man’s. 

Robert is silent for a minute, then two, considering, but something must break. “Vic asked me to,” He admits, head turned to the side like he doesn’t want Aaron to see whatever’s written all over his face.

But this? This side of Robert, the soft edges and heart of gold? That’s what Aaron loves most about him and he shouldn’t ever hide it. 

.

Things come to head during an argument about something or other. Aaron stopped paying attention when he realised that the topic isn’t _really_ what it’s about. 

“I don’t get it,” Aaron says, voice quiet. He scrubs a hand over his face to wipe away the tears, but it’s no use - they keep streaking his cheeks like tattoos, the skin red raw. “Why you can’t just admit it.”   


“Admit what?” Robert says. He’s ridiculously oblivious - intentionally so, but Aaron can’t bring himself to be angry about it.   


The younger man blinks and looks down at the floor, at the floral carpet under his feet. “That you’re my soulmate, and I’m yours,” He whispers, as though the volume of his voice will help Robert take it in any better.

“Er, _never_?” Robert says, laughing desperately. He looks at Aaron like he’s crazy, like he’s well and truly lost his fucking mind. Well, he feels like it either way. “Because it’s not _true_!”   


“Right, so, the love sickness, the fact we can’t stay away from each other,” Aaron lists, counting on his fingers. “The initials, and the fact that mine turned gold the _exact_ moment I met you! Did I miss anything? Or is that all just a _coincidence_?”  


“Your last name doesn’t even begin with D, how can it be you?” Robert counters, looking amused by the whole thing - like by this point, he’s just humouring Aaron. “It’s Alyssa, end of.”   


And with that, he turns and takes a step towards the door. Somewhere, deep in Aaron’s gut, he knows that this’ll be the last time he sees Robert, and that fear paralyses him. 

“Robert, please!” He yells, making a grab for Robert’s sleeve. The older man shifts back and out of his reach, then turns to face him. His expression is as hard as stone and his mouth is a straight line, and Aaron’s heart drops into his stomach.  


“No, Aaron,” He says firmly, hard enough to crack mountains. “We’re done.”  


.

The sickness is awful for the first month.

He doesn’t see Robert, because the older man is avoiding him as well as you can in a village the size of a postage stamp. Obviously, they bump into each other, but that’s too painful, so Aaron turns the other way and waits until he’s alone until he doubles over, gasping for air. 

His mark is burning constantly, to the point where it feels like his skin is blistering, but when he looks, ‘RJS’ is shimmering gold right back at him. It feels like it’s mocking him, because it looks exactly the same - except the skin around the letters is a little more red. 

“Love, I’m getting worried,” Chas says, sitting on the edge of his bed. She has that concerned face on, and he knows it’s because he hasn’t eaten in almost a week, but any time he tries he throws it straight back up. There’s just no point. “You should probably see a doctor.”   


“It’s just the flu,” He says through gritted teeth, because even Chas sitting a foot away is making his skin tingle. He shifts away.  


She doesn’t seem to get the message, because she rests the back of her hand on his forehead. “Aaron, you’re burning up!” She gasps, yanking her arm back when Aaron whimpers. The pain of it’s too much, and tears roll down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut. “You _need_ to tell me what’s wrong with you!” 

And yeah, he supposes he does, so he drags his arm from under the covers. He rests his hand palm up, the crook of his elbow on full display for her to see.

It feels like a fucking spectacle. 

“Your soulmate,” Chas breathes, fingertips hovering in the air like she wants to touch his mark. She doesn’t, though, and he shoots her a weak but grateful smile. “Is that- Is that _Robert Sugden_?”   


“Yeah,” He confirms, a ghost of the word. Even hearing the name makes his chest crack a little more, aching with the need, but he snaps out of it when he hears his mum muttering threats. “Please, just leave it.”   


“He _hurt_ you, Aaron,” She says, voice wavering with tears. “He can’t _do_ this to you! You’re soulmates!”   


“Yeah, and it’s over for good,” He snaps, finding a little bit of strength from somewhere. He shifts across the bed and away from her, turns onto his side.  


He can hear her sniffling as she stands, but before she leaves, she stops and looks at him. Her gaze is burning directly into his back. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” She says, matter of fact, and closes the door softly behind her. 

.

It goes after a while. Well, it doesn’t, but Aaron just gets good at ignoring it. He suppresses it until it’s barely more than a headache and the almost forgotten memory of Robert’s mouth. 

And that’s when Gordon picks the _perfect_ time to pop back up. 

Chas doesn’t hide it as well as she thinks she does. A blind man could spot it a mile off, but it doesn’t even take that much for Aaron to. Even after he begs her, pleads with her, she still sees Gordon. 

And that’s when Robert catches him in the cabin, all pale skin and shivering muscles.

His blood isn’t the only thing that feels poisoned. 

“Aaron?” Robert says. His voice feels far away, muffled like they’re underwater, but Aaron clings to the sound of it. It’s the only thing keeping him afloat. “Aaron, what’ve you done!?”   


He fades in and out of consciousness on the way to the hospital. The only thing he’s really aware of is Robert’s panicked muttering, or the fingers that occasionally swipe his hair off of his forehead. When they get there, though, he drags himself to the surface. 

“It was my dad,” He says, beckoning Robert close enough that he can feel his breath. “He did this.”  


And that’s enough to set off all kinds of warning signs in Robert’s mind.

Aaron’s sick. He can almost feel the life draining from him like warmth, and it’s probably a terrible idea to discharge himself from hospital, but he just needs to get _away_. 

Away from the sympathetic looks from the nurses and the doctors critical eyes, away from the murmurings about mental health teams and psychiatric tests.

Away from _Robert_. 

Except Robert follows him. Maybe it’s a soulmate thing, Aaron wouldn’t know. He’s been denying the bond for too long. But Robert finds him, and that thing he thought he felt in the car is back - so he knows he’s not dreaming.

That thing: a second pulse, alongside his. Strong and steady where his is weak and fluttery. Consistent whereas his is all over the place. 

He spills his secrets like bile, right there on Debbie’s couch. He tells Robert about that awful, _awful_ thing, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t keep it in anymore, and it’s almost a relief when the words are sitting heavy in the air.

“I love you,” Robert says, like it hurts him. After though, about ten seconds after, he looks like Aaron feels: relieved but angry - angry at the fact they’re even _in_ this situation. 

Aaron smiles, weak around the edges and hazy everywhere else. He feels numb. “You don’t have to say it just because of what happened to me,” He says. The thought that there could be some truth to that makes him feel sick, but it also could be the fact he almost died twenty four hours ago.

“I’m not- I’m not just saying it,” Robert says, voice hard. He sounds passionate, though, and it’s the first time he’s sounded anything but gentle ever since Aaron told him. Robert looks off to the side. “You’re my soulmate.”  


Aaron would laugh, but blackness creeps over his vision and his head hits the back of the sofa before he can open his mouth.

.

When he wakes up again, he’s in a hospital bed, IV taped to his arm and a heart monitor beeping steadily. He feels a little better, like his insides aren’t so blackened and his mind isn’t so dark.

He looks around for Robert instinctively, because that secondary pulse is still thumpthumpthumping (and because he knows now, that no matter what, Robert isn’t going to leave his side). 

The man in question is just outside Aaron’s room. He’s on his own, phone pressed to his ear and pacing, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to do something stupid - or something that involves Aaron’s sorry excuse for a father - because he looks… relieved. Like whatever he’s just said hasn’t made the world end. 

Aaron watches him for a minute, then three. Anyone else would look awful in the fluorescent lights of a hospital, but not Robert. His skin still has that golden shine to it, and his hair looks perfect.

 _He_ looks perfect. 

He’s caught up in staring a little too long, because Robert pushes back through the door and smiles at him, only slightly. Aaron gets that. It’s not exactly the mood for smiling, is it? 

“Alright?” The older man says quietly, eyes still crinkled at the corners. It says everything his mouth doesn’t say: _i’m glad you’re okay i love you i’m so sorry about what happened to you i love you i love you_.   


“Better,” Aaron confirms, fingers picking at the edge of the bedsheet. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he knows he’ll get an answer. “Who were you talking to?”   


Robert looks uncomfortable for a second and shifts on his feet, then lowers himself into the chair at the side of Aaron’s bed. “It was Alyssa,” He says quietly, fingers inching closer like he wants to hold Aaron’s. “I told her.” 

“Told her what?” Aaron asks. The question tastes wrong in his mouth because he _knows_ what Robert told her, but he needs that conformation. He needs to know he’s not dreaming.   


“That you’re my soulmate,” Robert says simply, but his eyes are burning bright and serious, and his pulse right there next to Aaron’s speeds up.   


.

They agree to take things slow. Or, it’s more that Robert moves away when Aaron tries to kiss him, but he insists that it’s not because of _that_. “I want you to wait until you’re ready,” He said, and Aaron believed him more than he’s ever believed in anything in his entire life. 

It takes a while, but Aaron finally understands. It’s not like Robert isn’t tactile - he draws his arm around Aaron’s shoulders and kisses him on the forehead, a hand squeezing his shoulder when he needs it - but he knows when to back away. 

Aaron figures that if it is because of _that_ , then Robert wouldn’t be anywhere near him. 

The trial goes as well as trials do. Robert says the kindest words, but Gordon manages to bite back with something that crumbles their prosecution. It’s awful, sitting there every day for three weeks, but it’s nothing compared to seeing what it does to his family. 

To Chas, who’s becoming a pale zombie, moving by on autopilot. She stays strong for him, but all he wants is to let her know that she doesn’t have to. 

To Cain, who blames himself so much that he struggles to be around Aaron. That’s another thing that’s not because of _that_ , and another that took him a while to work out. 

To Robert, who’s constantly asking if he’s okay. The heartbeat’s become a second nature now, just something soothing to keep him grounded when he feels like he could float up, up and away. It speeds up twice as fast sometimes, when he’s worried - when Aaron calls him in floods of tears and tells him that he wants to do something stupid.

But that’s how Aaron knows he cares. 

Their first night together is- it’s PG, at Robert’s insistence and Aaron’s agreement. It’s still all too fresh - the memories and the trial and the cuts on Aaron’s arms - so when Robert kisses him, it’s soft. Unhurried.

“Stay,” Aaron says, eyes trained to the floor. He doesn’t know what this is - he just knows that he’s done with Gordon ruining his life. He won’t let him take this, too. “I want you to stay.”   


Robert pauses for a minute, but it’s not hesitance. It’s consideration. “Yeah,” He settles on, thumb smoothing along the line of Aaron’s jaw. “Yeah, alright.” 

He stays. 

He lets Aaron lead him upstairs by the hand, and kisses him softlysoftlysoftly when he tilts his head up. He lets Aaron unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers and watches carefully as Aaron takes his own shirt off, and then, with all the patience of a saint, asks:

“Can I borrow some pyjamas?”   


Aaron wants to laugh. It’s so caring and kind, and it’s not like Robert, but maybe it is now. Maybe this is _his_ Robert, his soulmate, the person he knows inevitably that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

So he agrees. 

Robert lets Aaron lay down first, on the side of the bed nearest the door. Then he hesitates for a split second, snaps out of it when Aaron pats the duvet, and it takes him seconds to lay down. 

They’re face to face, all of Robert’s imperfections and perfections highlighted by the movement, but he doesn’t seem to care. He keeps his gaze firmly on Aaron’s, even as his hand seeks out the younger man’s, and his fingers curl loosely around his wrist.

“I’ve missed you,” He says, hushed like a confession. It’s nothing that he hasn’t said before - in the kitchen a few hours ago, tongue tasting like whiskey and hands gripping tight - but it still makes Aaron’s heart clench painfully.   


“Me too,” Aaron says. He smiles shakily at Robert’s thumb skimming up the inside of his forearm, and breathes out, low and long, when he presses the print of it against his mark.  


He knows what the letters look like: golden and shimmering, like Robert’s hair on a sunny day. He knows what it feels like: warm and safe, like Robert’s arm around his shoulders.

It’s not the first time Robert’s touched it, but that was different. That was the curve of his fingers holding him against the bed while they were fucking. It was _impersonal_ , no matter what Aaron felt at the time.

This isn’t that. This is the intentional touch, the brushing of Robert’s fingertips over warm skin. This is Robert seeking that bond out, looking for it, and hitting the right spot. This is Robert well and truly accepting that they’re soulmates.

Aaron’s fingers ache with the need to touch, but he doesn’t know if he’s even  _allowed_. It’s not like Robert’s mark is on his arm, is it? But the older man can tell, somehow (probably another soulmate thing), and he smiles gently, nodding. 

That’s all Aaron needs. He could tell where it is with his eyes closed, and he knows where it is right now even though it’s covered with clothes, so he slowly ruffles the fine hairs on Robert’s arm with the tips of his fingers as he moves past it.

He hesitates over Robert’s hip, because _maybethisisabadideamaybeitisntreal_ is running through his head, but the older man’s still smiling at him, safety and love all rolled into one. That’s enough for his fingers to move without his say so.

His thumb dips under the waistband of Robert’s borrowed trackies, smoothing over the warmed skin, and his breath hitches when he finds the mark. It’s never felt like this, the bond, not even when they’ve been so intimate they’re practically the same person.

Because Aaron knows what this is. He sees it all now.

It’s security, and trust, and the knowledge that this is forever. It’s knowing that Robert is his soulmate and he’ll never leave. They might hurt each other, sure, unintentionally, but he feels _safe_. He hasn’t felt like this for years (probably never).

He sees their future: a house and a dog, maybe a kid or two, and the Sugdens and Dingles joining to support them. It’s everything he never thought he’d have.

“I love you,” He says, syllables tripping over each other in a haste to get out of his mouth. He didn’t mean to say it but he’s never been so honest, and Robert’s eyes shine with tears as he moves forward.  


“I love you too,” He whispers. Their mouths are millimetres apart, and it wouldn’t take Aaron any effort to close the gap, so he does. He kisses Robert, one hand still on his hip; Robert’s hand curled around his forearm while he kisses back.  


It’s:

_i’m sorry_

and 

_please forgive me_

and

_i love you_

and

 **welcome home**. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [aarobron](http://aarobron.tumblr.com/) xo


End file.
